Greenlane Poetry

All Saints 3pm
Bad Day
Bar des Sports, Charly-sur-Marne
Before and After the Watershed
Call to Witness
Carte Postale
Charlie
Clerk of Works
Dog in the Night
Easter Saturday at Festubert
Fargate
Force Nine
Forge Island
Four Chimneys
Half Empty
Homeward Bound
In Glen Howe Park
In Provence
Incident
Kilner's Bridge
Last Train
Lilac Time
Magpies
Mungy Lane
new title
new title
North Line
Nurses
Outfield
Painting By Numbers
Patriots
Per Ardua
Pioneers
Release
Rememberings
Routine Visit
Runner
September
Silent Snakes
Spring Training
Start-1
Students in Crookesmoor
The Don at Swinton
The Festive Season
The Runners in the Fields
The Seasons
Treatment Days
Trips to the Seaside
Up Train
Valley Mist
Weston Park
What Love Is
Winthrop Park

--chosen-work--

All Saints 3pm

It is the start of Lent. Untimely sun
Has lured the coloured crocuses from sleep
The orange flowers on each roundabout
Preferred by sparrows now in fallen sweep
We are all gathered; now with small-talk done
The cold stone echoes back our orison.

We sing with verve betraying secret thought
Which thanks the Lord that someone else was called
Not us who are not ready. Though appalled
At crippled wording of familiar psalms
The Lord is still my shepherd I'll not want
The slanting colours strike the useless font

And all around the gentle glinting brass
Of names which are remembered for a while
On far-flung days when dusty in the aisle
A few survivors probe the dark recess
Electric lights illuminate God's love
With chains ascending into Heaven above